The occasional flying gnat had found its way around Kirkslee's Abbey now that a slight chill had come forward to welcome the approaching evening. The sun had passed its stage of blinding brightness at the set of the day and had now settled in to a warm reddish glow that touched just above the top of the trees in the neighboring woods. April tucked straight strands of auburn hair behind her ears and continued her work, glancing over to a boy who knelt beside her to help.

"Okay, Isaac, once this bucket is full it should be enough to get cooking." She warmly told the eight year old boy. He nodded and they continued to pluck snap green beans from their home and toss them into a rickety old wash barrel. Some of the other children were already in the kitchen heating up boiling pots of water and stirring stew that had been simmering all afternoon; meanwhile the younger kids tidied up the mess hall and set the table for supper. Alex, a sixteen year old blond boy, came out from the budding orphanage to take the tub from April's hands and get to cooking.

"Thanks mate," she smiled kindly. Lucy crawled around a trellis that clambered up the stone wall of the building and tore off some veggies that she proceeded to directly eat. Alex swept up the toddler and chuckled, reminding her not to spoil supper. On the other side of the property, Guy was dismounting from his aging stallion. He had tied his faithful companion to a wooden hitching post and gave him a sturdy pat on the haunches before slipping off his gloves and hesitantly wading to the front door. Voices could be heard both inside the building as well as from behind. There was no fence so laughter and jeers of all ages floated about, reminding Gisborne how much he disliked children. He had gotten from the trail through a few steps of grass before hitting a flagstone path. Guy stared up at a large iron crucifix that hung prominently over the door; it was, after all, on the lot behind the Abbey. He changed his gaze and glanced over to a little girl only a couple of meters away who held posies in her hands. She stared at him and he stared back, no warmth present in either of them. An older boy with golden hair came to the small child and held her shoulders as he hardly stared down the intruder. Gisborne felt unwelcomed by this kid and was not sure why; he had more than likely wronged him in some way. Was he responsible for that boy being an orphan? Didn't matter to Gisborne. Another teenage boy came from the door and folded his arms heavily, trying to push up his biceps to appear more threatening. Guy nearly laughed at his attempt.

"We alrea'y paid the rent, we have no need for your sort here."

"I am not here for money," he sneered, "I am here for April."

"She ain't done nothin' to ya." The boy quickly defended. Gisborne glanced to the side at another pair of kids and sniffed. How many of those things were here?

"Where is she?" Guy did his best to keep from sounding threatening, but he was clearly frustrated. He knew he wouldn't have trusted himself, either. The teenager was clearly scanning his mind, racing to find something to say, darting his eyes around for a distraction.

"Sir Guy?" Came a voice. He spun to the left to see April coming round the side of the house with a small child on her hip. Both her hands and the fringe of her dress were a bit wet from watering each of the vegetables and flower beds before finishing up supper.

"Lady April," he greeted, noting an embarrassing sheepish grin making its way to his cheeks, "I am glad to see you are well." He watched as she bit her lip and swept some ginger hair from the eyes of the two year old girl in her arms. April's slim frame approached him and set the child to go free as she touched his arm.

"What brings you here tonight?" she smiled back. He looked down at her fingers on his jacket and froze in a crystal of this moment. Her touch was tender, warm. Guy watched her eyes and realized that he had not said anything.

"Well, I was just… about. Wanted to see what I had purchased." He awkwardly joked; kidding around is not something he does too often. April shooed away the gaggle of orphans and led him inside to a pack of stares. It was unsettling to have so many sets of eyes on you at once, Gisborne thought, how did she manage to run a place like this? The older children seemed perfectly suited to tend to meals and caring for the younger ones, though, so maybe she didn't have it so bad. She was certainly not focused on her own interests here. They wound about to a back room with a handful of books and several short tables and miniature chairs with animals painted on the seats. There was, however, a full standard area for grownups as well. Looking about the blue room, Gisborne gathered that it was a make-shift and lowly stocked library.

"The scribe from the Abbey comes twice a week to teach them how to read and write." Lady April shattered the silence. She motioned for him to sit but, as a gentleman, he waited for her to repose first.

"So then, you read?" he flared up the conversation, knowing he had nothing in particular to discuss. He just had to be with a pretty girl who wouldn't betray him for a few minutes.

"Oh, no, no," She quickly denied, "I'm just a blacksmith's daughter." Guy nodded and realized he was smiling at her; he quickly cut this out.

"So how many, um…" he waved his hand around the doorway to the kitchen vaguely and she chuckled. That laugh was precious, he thought to himself.

"Children are here?" she completed for him, "I have thirty three here. Eight or nine are older, teenagers, so they help about. Half of them are illegitimate children and the other half are, well… undesirables."

"Undesirables?"

"Well, you know. Deformed, uh, mentally unhealthy. That sort of thing." April fidgeted her fingers on the edge of the wooden tabletop and averted her glance.

"You don't want to discuss it… are they yours?"

"No!" she was quick to defend, "No, no. I think they are all God's children and they are all wonderful. Why doesn't everybody else? Makes me a bit sad is all." Gisborne took his rough palm and put it atop her slender hand. In this three minutes he had had more discovery and honesty about her than he had from five years with Marian; if he could even say he was with her. April's humility floored him, clearly she was raised in a strict religious manner, and yet she seemed to be all of eighteen or a little more. Her prominent cheek bones glowed when she grinned at him.

"You have children, Sir Guy? Married?"

"Not so long as there are girls as gorgeous as you out there." He giggled and punched himself in the betraying gut. Seriously? He scolded. The thick and settled air of the room became suddenly apparent to Guy as he struggled to regain control and tighten a grip on the reigns of composure; he was here to settle down from his irritation with Marian, not wind up with another Seth milling about. Gisborne desperately shut that memory into a vault and stowed away into a dank recess of his mind. No one, especially an innocent girl with sympathy for orphans, should know about that miscalculation. April laid her left hand over his and bit her lip through a smile. Maybe his flirting didn't sound as stupid as he thought it did.

"And what is it you do besides sweep women of the church off their feet?" They shared a chuckle but Gisborne quickly became washed away in panic. What did he do? Maim tax payers. Imprison weapon makers. Fight in a radical movement against the King.

"I command the army and collect taxes." He vaguely let it go at that.

"Hmm, important man, then. I had best butter you up if you do my taxes." April squeezed his hand. Guy's mouth remained open as he kept comparing the orphanage keeper and the Lady of Knighton. This is what romance was supposed to be, wasn't it? Not lies and heartache. As he looked into her emerald eyes, he thought perhaps, maybe, with true determination, it was time to tell Marian goodbye.